


Iridescent

by hufflepuffvs



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anika_Ann's 500 Celebration Challenge, Canon-Typical Violence, Daddy Issues, Emotions, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Protective Steve Rogers, Reader is an empath, Reader's Father is a Criminal, Smut, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, reader has healing powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25827628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepuffvs/pseuds/hufflepuffvs
Summary: You ran because you didn't want your past to define you. Little did you know it was coming back to haunt you either way.Written for @Anika-Ann's 500 Celebration Challenge
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Iridescent

You rolled the glass around, watching the liquid slosh about. Your eyes were trained downwards, your eyes boring a hole into the counter as if it would swallow you whole. That would be a million times better than waiting in a crowded bar, trying not to make eye contact with the men sending 'seductive' leers your way.

You felt someone approach besides you, the feelings of desire and nervousness wafted through your veins with every step he took towards you. At times, you resented the ability to feel people's emotions.

An attractive, lean man stopped besides you, greeting you with a kind smile "Hi. Can I buy y--"

"Yes." You interrupted him bluntly.

The man briefly raised his eyebrows before his smile returned. "So, what's your na--"

"Noooooo."

You could sense his dejection as he walked away. You felt kinda bad; you picked up on his good intentions from the beginning but you weren't in the mood tonight. You just wanted to curl up in your bed beneath the soft blankets instead of waiting in a cold, crowded bar on a Thursday night.

"We can go somewhere else if you want to."

You closed your eyes, pursing your lips to hide your growing smile. "It's OK, we're here now. By the way, you're eight minutes late."

Steve chuckled, sidling onto the stool next to yours. "Sorry about that. We had a debrief on AIM again."

The shift in Steve's mood seeped into your bones, the dullness casting a sharp ache in your stomach. Ever since you could remember, you practised every day to control your powers. At first, especially throughout your childhood, the raw emotion you felt from everyone sent you in a frenzy, your mind on the literal verge of a breakdown from all the emotions you could feel from everyone, even from a newlywed couple arguing all the way across town. Eventually you learned to rein it in, stopped fighting yourself from feeling and instead channelling what you felt into your other power. 

It took a lot of effort for you to do so, especially when the sensation was strong, like the unease and frustration Steve was currently feeling.

"We have no idea what they're planning." Steve continued. "They've gone completely underground, but we know they're going to do somethi-" he inclined his head towards you, pausing in concern upon seeing you with your eyes closed in pain, your hand placed downwards on the counter, your nails digging into the fine wood, leaving behind small indents. Steve placed his hand on top, his fingers intertwining with yours. He'd only seen this happen twice but he knew what was happening; you were being overloaded with emotions. A small pang of guilt hit Steve at once, but he quickly locked it away, not wanting to increase the burden upon you.

You took a deep breath, the overwhelming dullness bleeding out of you. You opened your eyes to find concerned ocean blue eyes staring back at you.

"You alright?" Steve asked, his fingers running through the tresses of your hair, tenderly massaging your scalp as you came back down.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Thank you." you smiled gratefully, sighing in relief. You wished you were alone, wanting to preserve this moment between the two of you, not in a place where anyone can turn and watch with prying eyes.

A smile tugged on the corner of Steve's lips, his hand slowly travelling back down to his side. Whatever anger he felt towards AIM dropped. Everything he felt was amplified by the serum; anger would turn into fury, happiness would turn into euphoria. It took all his concentration to keep his emotions inside him and not let them influence his behaviour and actions. It wasn't until he met you that he realised the extent of the serum's capabilities. Sure, he understood when Erskine explained it to him but he'd never met an Empath who could physically show it to him.

"I'm sorry. A.I.M is getting under my skin more than I'd like to admit." Steve told you.

"I understand." you assured him, grasping his wrist in comfort. "Which is why you need to see this." You discreetly removed a large, bulky envelope from the inside of your jacket and slid it across the counter to Steve.

He grasped the envelope in his hands, surprised at the hefty weight. Usually the intel you gathered for the team was nothing more than a file on their latest criminal target. This seemed like Santa's bundle of gifts on Christmas.

"How bad?" he asked in trepidation.

"On a scale of one to ten," you dramatically paused, pretending to think about it. "About 207"

"Jesus," Steve mumbled under his breath, his eyes scanning the envelope. Obviously, he couldn't open it here but your warning had him on edge. He sighed, turning to you once more. You never listened to him whenever he brought up the subject, no matter what arguments he gave in your favour, your faith in yourself completely diminished the day the team found out who you were and what you were capable of.

"Listen, I know I've said this before but we're gonna need all hands on deck, especially with this" he pleaded, the urgency clear in his voice.

You shook your head, sighing in defeat. "Steve, you know that can't happen." you protested, looking back at the counter sadly. "I can't be trusted."

"What?! Why not?" Steve asked incredulously. In the three years he'd known you, he would never come to that conclusion. You were so kind, strong and beautiful, it was impossible not to love you.

You scoffed bitterly. "You know who my father is."

That was the excuse you gave them. Every time they would try to persuade you to come back, you would drop those exact words. Things were different now the team know who you are. They wouldn't be able to look at you the same way they did before, they wouldn't be able to give the same level of trust as before. Both Steve and Natasha thought differently, if this past year had taught you anything.

After a beat of silence, Steve turned his body so he was facing you. "Hey, look at me." he said softly, the certainty unwavering. "You are not your father. Nowhere near close. And if anyone says or thinks otherwise, I'll beat them with my bare hands. OK?"

The smile you'd been trying to fight grew, tears brimming to your eyes, the protective affection you sensed within Steve warming your veins and leaving a gaping hole when you pulled away, standing up to leave. Leaning into him, you softly kissed his cheek in gratitude, your hand sliding from Steve's jaw and down to his chest as you walked past him and to the exit.

It was unspoken but you still recognised it. A pull towards him, encasing you both in a warm glow whenever you were together. You couldn't breathe until you saw him, couldn't feel safe until you were with him. Whether it was your own doubt or your inexperience that blocks yourself from sensing it within Steve, you didn't know. You hoped he felt the same because you wouldn't be able to let him go once your job was done. 

* * *

"They've created a what now?"

"A super-soldier serum," Steve repeated, stood at the head of the conference table, watching as the team read through the copies you gave them, their faces filled with horror and anger. "A replica, that is. But they've recreated it to become a stronger, more toxic version."

The hefty envelope you provided contained multiple copies of files that detailed everything A.I.M had been planning. Outlines, blueprints, sketches- you name it. It also contained a flash drive of digital copies of these files, and then some. Its contents made them all sick to their stomach, especially Bucky and Bruce.

A.I.M had managed to obtain a sample of Bucky's blood and a sample of Bruce's gamma radiation project, courtesy of Samuel Sterns. Together, A.I.M used their equipment and other weapons to create their own toxic, lethal version of the super soldier serum. Only one had been created so far; they needed to test its capabilities before they can make more. Despite this, they still put the word out, exposing it to the black market, creating chaos within the criminal world.

"They wanted this to happen," Bucky remarked. "They wanted every slimeball dealer to know. The more money A.I.M get, the more of this serum they can make."

"Regardless of the destruction it'll cause," Bruce finished darkly. Despite making peace with the Hulk, Bruce knew what he created could easily fall into the wrong hands, its limitless potential causing monstrosity if it was created again. He learned that the hard way with Sterns once before. To find out that his biggest fear came true was a nightmare for Bruce.

"Where did you say you got this information again?" Tony asked, studying the files with interest.

"Anonymous source," Steve instantly replied, raising a few heads at the table. Natasha looked around the table to gauge everyone's reactions with a steady expression, prepared not to give anything away. Sam, Bucky and Clint were curious but ultimately kept quiet; they trusted Steve's judgement. Wanda also stayed silent but her narrowed eyes told Natasha she knew they were hiding something. Tony, Bruce and Thor inclined their heads, obviously wanting to know more.

"Wait a minute. If this thing is for sale, it might be going on auction through Driscoll," Clint pondered aloud, gaining everyone's attention.

Steve's stomach dropped upon hearing Driscoll's name. He glanced at Natasha to see her looking back at him, the pair sharing a pointed look with each other that didn't go unnoticed by the team.

"Uh, Steve?" Bruce asked, his eyes moving from Steve to Natasha.

"We might know someone who can help us," Steve addressed the team with an authoritative tone. His entire body turned rigid, his jaw clenched in an attempt to hide his anger. Steve relied on this team to have his back, his faith unwavering in their loyalty. He considered everyone in this room family, yet the mere thought of putting you in danger was enough to make his blood run cold, his muscles screaming at him to run and take you to safety. 

"Is it your anonymous source?" Tony inquired, watching Steve with suspicion. His silence was enough of an answer. As if he read his mind, Steve looked up from the table to make eye contact with Tony, an understanding between the two arising.

"I can't say who this person is and I definitely can't ask this person to put themselves in danger."

"Can't or won't?" Thor questioned Steve, the kind tone of his voice setting the course of discussion. Steve heaved out a breath, conflicted. He sat down, moving his arms so his elbows rested on the table, his conjoined hands covering his mouth. He knew what was at stake, the risk the world was under. He couldn't choose to be selfish for the sake of love, not when it could mean catastrophe.

"Steve," Tony called out to him cautiously as the others looked on. "I know this person is important to you. But we cannot afford to keep any more secrets, especially when everything is at stake here. Not after Ultron," Tony paused, his voice wavering as he remembered the disastrous events that unfolded before. Tony couldn't bear to lose his trust in Steve again, nor was he willing for Steve to lose his trust in him. 

"Call her." Everyone turned to Natasha, her eyes fixed on Steve.

* * *

As a newborn, you would cry every time you were placed in your father's arms; he was worried you didn't like him. What your parents didn't realise was that you would cry because you sensed the ruthless megalomania in your father. It made you feel scared and unsafe around him. Your mother didn't know why until she learned who her husband really was.

Who she thought was a loving, funny businessman was actually a cruel, vindictive criminal, specialising in black market trading and organised crime. Seeing the real him terrified her to the core and the seedling of doubt was solidified when she met his associates. The men, your father called his best employees, had experimented on your mother when she was pregnant with you, injecting strange liquids and cosmic entities that resulted in the birth of an Empath. What they expected was a soldier born with unfathomable power, not a baby who could sense and replicate emotions.

You mother fled, taking you to a quiet town, serving your criminal father with divorce papers and an iron-clad custody deal. He was never to contact you or your mother again. She knew he was keeping tabs on her but for some reason he never took action. She hoped it was for your sake. He was a bad person, but a good father. He proved that when you were born.

Being an Empath meant you see the real person, their personally constructed masks stripped down to nothing, exposing the bare essentials of that person. Who they were, what they felt, why they acted the way they do. You could sense it all, as if you were the one feeling it. But you just saw it as a neat trick, something that made you special. That belief was encouraged when you were seven years old. You had tended to a dying flower, when suddenly, a bright yellow glow appeared under your hands and somehow restored the flower to its natural glory. When you showed your mother, she broke down in tears. On top of being able to sense emotions in others, you had healing powers aswell.

You could sense your mother's growing anxiety, helping you to understand that these powers needed to be kept hidden. It wasn't until you were fifteen when your mother told you about your past: who you were and how your powers came to be.

Your upbringing was anything but normal, but you were grateful you had your mother. She did her absolute best to give you a normal childhood as possible, encouraging you to become strong and kind, the best self you could be, even convincing you that your powers could help those in need. With her by your side, you practised to control the sheer power you held, helping to limit the overload of emotions you felt.

As an adult, you studied to become a therapist, using your emphatic abilities to understand what people were going through and helping them as best as you could. Eventually, you became highly recommended by many doctors, clients and others in New York, despite your youth. That was how you met Tony Stark.

Since becoming Iron Man, Tony felt the burgeoning guilt of the role he played in the destruction that came with being a superhero, which was magnified by the heavy anxiety and post-traumatic stress from the battles he's fought. He barely recognised himself--the mischievous, wise-cracking playboy in him was gone. He became more hardened and fearful of what the future held, to the point where he was losing sleep, pushing away those who mattered most to him.

He needed help. He knew this so he sought out the best therapist money could buy.

The first couple of sessions with you were intense, to say the least. Your ability to see right through his soul had an effect on him; he didn't think a therapist could be that good. The observations you made were immensely helpful, yet it bothered him how attuned to his feelings you were, as if you could read his mind. With everything that happened, he wouldn't be surprised. Once you assured him you were simply doing your job, Tony opened up more, allowing himself to ease the constant burden off his shoulders. Overtime, he learned to process what he was feeling and find the best solution, which helped him improve his relationships with Pepper and the team.

Sometime later, Tony offered you a job as the Avengers' personal therapist, At first, you were unsure, worried that they would learn about your nature and where they stemmed from. After accepting the job, you realised you had nothing to worry about. 

The team loved you. You met with Bucky the most, helping him disassociate himself from the Winter Soldier, reclaim his identity as Bucky Barnes and bring him the peace he lost seven decades ago. Wanda was the person you were able to relate to most. With her, you offered the help you wish you received, enabling Wanda to grow stronger and more confident with herself. Sometimes you wondered whether Wanda knew about your powers and chose to keep quiet- either way you were grateful it was never brought to light between you. 

Steve, however, was different. The intensity of his anger, guilt and sadness was larger than the others, and as you helped him confront all he'd lost, you found yourself falling for the kind super-soldier, despite the professional boundaries you tried to keep in place. Sometimes you could sense the growing desire in Steve aswell, exhibited by the lingering looks you gave each other, the many excuses he gave to see you, often joining you for lunch in your office. You stayed awake at nights, wondering if it could ever work between you two, but you never got the chance to find out. 

Most of the team was out on a mission, giving you the day off, yet you foolishly entered the building to retrieve something you left into your office. It was impossible that he recognised you after all this time, but somehow he did. The team was passing you in the hallway, Bucky gripping a soldier by his arms that were handcuffed behind his back. He was middle-aged but was in still good shape- he must have been very dangerous for the whole team to be following him on the way to the holding cell. You stood to the side to let them through, careful not to draw any attention to yourself until the man locked eyes with you. He called out to you, leaving you terrified. 

"Hey, I know you! You look just like your old man!" he hollered, his feet digging in the floor to stop in his tracks, despite Bucky's strongly guiding him along. "Hey, you still have those magic hands? What a fucking waste you turned out to be! We expected someone like this blonde guy, not a pansy Empath. You're super hot, though so when I get out of this place, I can show you a go-"" 

Bucky shoved him harder, shutting him up with a cold warning, leading him to the cell and out of your site, but the soldier kept yelling at you, his words turning vicious. You stood there frozen, your blood turning cold and your heart beating wildly in your chest, staring at the space he occupied well after they left. Steve came to your side instantly, comforting you before you descended into a full blown panic attack. He assured you he was to be dealt with, choosing to ignore what he said in the meantime. He took you to your office, leaving to get a glass of water. By the time he came back, you were long gone. 

You ran, leaving your home and all your possessions behind; you had no doubt the team would investigate your past, fearful of what they might do to you. You didn't see or hear from your father since you were a baby- until now. Looking through records, you easily found the lucrative auction company your father created, no doubt a front for his criminal dealings. Upon arriving there, you met his secretary instead, who handed you clothes, keys for an apartment and other essentials, no doubt provided from your father, who seemed rather determined in helping you stay hidden where nobody could find you. 

You felt nauseous accepting his tainted money; you told yourself you had no choice, but you did. Whilst waiting in his office, you quickly took whatever files you could find and stashed them away, intent on atoning for your mistake. You spent time studying the documents you stole, learning about the criminals your father was involved in, most of them you knew were on the Avengers' radar. Learning of your father's actions disgusted you to your core, horrified at your inheritance. You couldn't stand by and let this happen, so you took action. 

You spotted Natasha at a cafe, donning sunglasses as a terrible disguise; she was on surveillance duty. Hoping no-one would see, you took a chance and approached her, quelling her surprise by sitting down and handing her an envelope full of documents. You hoped at least one of them would help her find whoever she was looking for. Luckily, it did and thus began your new job. 

Natasha often came to you for help whenever the team needed more information on the latest target. It was rare, considering they had FRIDAY on their side, but the AI couldn't always help, which is how you came in. You would often meet with Natasha and hand over coveted documents that you salvaged. It wasn't a lot but it was helpful all the same. In return, Natasha ensured you remained hidden, kept off records from the public and off the team's radar. Natasha understood what it was like to be judged on your past, whether it was through your own actions or someone else's. She knew you were innocent, that you were no threat, so she helped you hide. You explained to her how your powers worked, how it helped you become a good therapist to the team. You expected her to be rattled but she was more in awe. The more you met, the more you knew of each other. 

"He misses you. He keeps it to himself but, it's true nonetheless." she told you one night. 

"That doesn't matter anymore," you replied bitterly. 

"Of course it does. You still love each other. That should be enough, right?"

You scoffed, downing your glass of booze. "You know who my father is."

A further two months down the line, you were shocked to find you were meeting with Steve instead. Having his suspicions, Natasha sent him in her place to answer his questions. You didn't need your powers to tell he was as equally shocked as you were, his mouth agape and his eyes swimming in hurt as he approached you, cautiously taking a seat opposite you as if you would disappear any second. 

Just as you thought, Tony asked FRIDAY for a background check, informing the team of everything you kept hidden. By the time they tried to get a hold of you, you were long gone. Both Steve and Natasha told you the team disregarded you as a threat, but you refused to believe them, fuelled by your shame and disgust of your inheritance. After a good time arguing to no end, Steve gave in, agreeing to keep this from the team, although you could sense he hated to do this again. Some part of you, the foolishly optimist, thought it was because he cared about you, that he still felt the growing love you sensed in him months ago. The paranoid side of you thought he was biding his time to arrest you at a more convenient time. 

That thought constantly swam inside your head as you drove to the compound, trusting Steve wouldn't betray you, his message blunt. You arrived at the compound, parking beside the entrance, where you saw both Tony and Steve waiting for you. You took a deep breath to conceal your anxiety before exiting the car and making your way towards them, head held high. As you approached, you sensed a variety of emotions: happiness and relief from Tony and regret oozing off Steve. 

"It's great to see you," Tony bowed his head towards you when you stopped in front of them. "I missed our chats. At least now, we can talk about our shared daddy issues in our next session" he chuckled, gently squeezing your shoulder in comfort, like one would do when seeing an old friend. 

Furrowing your brows, you stepped back from Tony's grip, looking from him to Steve. "You're being awfully chummy with a soon-to-be criminal."

"We're not arresting you, Y/N" he clarified with warm eyes. "We need your help." He turned to Steve, who heaved a sigh, his arms crossed. 

"We think AIM are planning to sell their serum through Driscoll's auction house. But we don't have any access," he explained. 

You immediately shook your head, your eyes wide as you realised what they wanted, wrapping your arms around you and stumbling back until you hit the car door. "No, no no no," you gasped. 

"Hey, hey," Steve soothed. "It's ok, you don't have to do this." 

"But if I don't, what's gonna happen?" you countered. "This is too much to ask for, Steve. I can't do this"

"Look, you have every right to refuse," you turned to Tony, who stood a few metres away. "But we wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important." 

Your gaze flitted across the area as Steve moved to your side, steadying you with a hand on your waist as you gulped breaths of air, panic seeping into your bones. 

Steve whispered your name, waiting patiently until you looked at him. "What can you feel?" he asked. 

You regained control of yourself, staring at Steve's chest as you let your power take over, your mind focusing on what you could feel within Steve, the same remorse you felt from him earlier had dwindled down, replaced by something more ardent... was that passion? You turned to Tony when you felt an inkling of guilt, a small reassuring smile sent your way. 

"OK. I'll do it"

* * *

Alistair Driscoll is a legendary kingpin that cowered to nobody and always got his way. You never would've thought he'd be shy and nervous with his daughter. 

The day you visited him was the first time you would come face to face with him since you were a baby, only glimpsing his back when you went to him before, meeting his secretary instead. This time, he asked you questions about your life and your mother, listening intently as you talked, occasionally smiling. You could sense the pride blooming inside him, aswell as another familiar feeling burrowed in his heart: love. 

You expressed disbelief at the notion, causing his joy to dwindle into sadness. He acknowledged he was no good for you, grateful that your mother took you away for a better life. Your mother once told you he was a bad man but a good father-- you never really believed her until now. 

Although you were happy to learn you were loved completely, you still couldn't face the hard truth of your father's nature, which he understood. You left without looking back, per his request, tears falling as you contemplated a life where your father was a good man with a normal job, able to greet his family at the door when he arrived home. If only he was rude and vicious; that way you wouldn't have to mourn what you had lost. 

That night, the team suited up, readying their weapons and equipment needed for this mission, able to enter the lavish building undetected thanks to the access your father provided. AIM had managed to only create one serum, planning to sell the serum to obtain the money for the resources needed to build more. On the way there, Sam pointed out the flawed logic- AIM were known for their covert dealings, and they would need the original to fully replicate the formula. 

This sent Steve on high alert, setting the team's positions around the auction house while he waited on the balcony above, giving him a large view of any dangers that may hit the civilians in attendance. The team had made extensive plans in case the mission went south, but nothing could've prepared them for the bomb that appeared in the place of the serum, giving everyone approximately ten seconds before it went off, causing a massive blast. 

Steve immediately jumped from the balcony, his shield ready to take the brunt impact of the explosion, flinging him across the room. 

Just as Sam had deduced, AIM set a trap- they were never going to sell. They were sending a warning to any competition looking to buy the serum or replicate the formula for themselves. 

Steve gritted his teeth, letting out a grunt in pain as he got back to his feet, tightening the shield on his arm when the sound of gunshots and yelling drew his attention, his jaw clenching at the sight of soldiers gunning down the security that arrived. He ran towards them, using his shield to disarm them and going head to head with several of AIM's men. From the corner of his eye, he could see Natasha and Bucky near him, clearing a path for Sam to evacuate the remaining civilians from the building. 

After taking out his opponents with considerable ease, Steve whipped around when he heard a pained cry, his eyes widening at the sight of you kneeling before an injured man lying behind a pillar. He swiftly ran towards you, calling your name and kneeling down beside you. 

"What the hell are you doing here? This is too dangerous!"

"I know," you answered, your eyes trained on the man's side, wincing as you channelled your energy through your hands, a warm golden light appearing under them as you healed his wound. "But I had to be here. It's like you said, at the bar, you needed all hands on deck."

Steve raised his eyebrows, looking at you in surprise. "You- **You actually listened to me?"** he asked in disbelief. You always ignored Steve when he asked you to join him, refusing to even entertain the idea. 

You huffed out a laugh. " **I can't quite believe it myself!** Now go, I've got this!" 

Steve helped the civilian to stand, leading him to Sam before he directed you to follow them to the back, where the rest of the guests had convened to safety. Ensuring you were safe, he rejoined the fight, his fighting becoming more fierce, his punches more violent, pummelling the soldiers with his raw strength, not stopping until they were motionless and bloody. Seeing you in the midst of all this danger, to even think that one of AIM's men could've touched you, unleashed his fury. Every instinct within him screamed at Steve to keep you safe, to not let these soldiers get away. 

With Steve protecting the back entry, you tended to the rescued civilians, healing their injuries before Sam led them on to the quinjet for safety. You poured all your energy outwards, a prickling sensation consuming you as your hands hovered over extensive injuries, healing burns, gunshot wounds and deep bruises, restoring their bodies with the glowing light that emerged from your hands. 

It took longer to heal the last remaining person, helping them to stand and stepping back, watching as the guests hurriedly piled into the quinjet; your work was done. You smiled faintly before your vision blurred, sucking in a breath when you felt a sharp throb in your muscles and nausea settling in the pit of your stomach. You felt drained the longer you used your power, the fatigue catching up with you now you'd stopped. You heard someone call your name, but it sounded faraway, as if your head was underwater. Then, with one step backwards, your legs gave out, crumpling to the ground. 

* * *

Despite AIM's best efforts, they were still caught. 

In the aftermath, Natasha intercepted one of their men running away and took him to the compound. He rather wanted to rot in prison than face AIM after failing his task, giving away co-ordinates in exchange for a lengthy sentence. With this information, the team were able to find their lab and destroy all copies of the serum. 

You recovered in the medical wing of the compound, combating your bout of fatigue with a good night's rest. Soon after you woke up, you found yourself tending to those who came back from the mission, healing their bruises they earned from fighting AIM's security guards at the lab. This time, you didn't feel as weary as you did last night, only using your power for minor wounds. Tony offered you sanctuary there, complete with training for your powers and a permanent home as a part of the team. You declined and thanked him for the offer. Your worries were now at rest; the team didn't see you as a threat. They saw you for who you were, along with an added amazement for your powers. After exchanging goodbyes, with a promise to stay in touch, you left the compound, Steve soon following you with an offer to take you back to your place. 

Instead of driving you home, Steve took a detour, driving into the forest next to the compound, stopping the car once he reached a secluded area, overlooking the large lake. 

The vast expanse of water was a reflection of the dark sky above, mirroring the ethereal glow of the moon and the rare twinkle of stars. The gentle breeze cast ripples into the lake and moved the trees so their leaves gently swayed side to side. The view was heavenly, a picturesque scene that you'd find in movies. It was a rare sense of peace that people would love to find, although simply looking at it didn't assuage Steve's raving emotions- you could sense it deep in your bones. 

Turning to him, you noticed he was deep in thought as he stared ahead, his brows furrowed. 

"Are you ok?" 

Steve let out a huff of laughter, the corner of his lips rising into a shy smile. "I should be asking you that."

"If you're talking about yesterday," you told him. "I'm fine. I just passed out because I never used my power to that extent before."

"Well, with practice, you'll get the hang of it" he surmised. 

"I hope so," you agreed, smiling as you leaned back in your seat, turning back to look at the view. You could feel Steve's gaze on you, but you willed yourself to keep looking straight ahead. If you looked in his baby blue eyes, you know you'd freeze. 

"Tony's offer still stands. If you want to practice, you're more than welcome to do so here at the compound." he pressed, his voice soft. 

You frowned as you thought on it, the memories of being with the team filled your brain. You had to admit you'd never been as happy when you were with them. With Steve. "Yeah." you paused for a beat before you continued. "I might take him up on that offer."

"Good. Because I-I need you." he admitted. 

You withheld a gasp, turning to him once again. You felt a familiar feeling rise up within him, but you couldn't place a finger on what it was. You had an inkling of what it was, but you couldn't be sure. Sometimes, your own conflicting feelings stopped you from seeing the big picture, from identifying what the feeling in other people was, even though you knew what every emotion felt like with a snap of your fingers. 

"As a therapist?" you cautiously asked, unsure if you read him wrong. 

Steve averted his gaze, his eyes focusing on his clasped hands. He knew how he felt about you, and surprisingly you didn't. As the memories of his therapy sessions with you flooded his mind, it reminded him of the guilt he would feel when he failed. The guilt that was trickling up into him now as his mind flashed back to the night at the auction house, the bomb he didn't detect, that caused injuries to nearly all the guests. Injuries you had to heal and tired you to the extent of passing out. 

"Steve," he turned back to you at the sound of your voice. "None of this was your fault. AIM had tricked everyone there, you could've known that would've happened. No-one could've." you assured him. 

"I know," he said. "But in the end, if anyone gets hurt, that's on me."

You swallow hard, thinking of something to say. Your first instinct is to offer advice you had previously given to him, but you quickly shut that thought down. He wasn't looking for a therapist, he was looking for a friend, someone to give comfort even if he felt he didn't deserve it. After a beat of silence, you softly said his name, waiting until he turned to face you. 

"Can I try something?" you asked, holding your breath until Steve offered a small, curious nod. 

You wrapped your hand on Steve's wrist, gently pulling until he separated his hands, moving so your fingers intertwined with his. You closed your eyes and gathered your powers together, pouring your energy outwards and into Steve, the golden light shining from your hands. Steve gasped, feeling the heavy burden slowly easing, dying down until he couldn't feel it anymore. With a faint groan, you removed your hands, opening your eyes to Steve studying you, his pupils blown wide. 

"How did you do that?" he whispered in awe. 

"I combined my powers," you told him with a shrug. "I healed your pain by concentrating on how I... how I feel for you," you stammered out the last part. You had no idea where this sudden bravery came from, but you were glad it did otherwise you would've kept this to yourself until it was too late. 

You avoid Steve's eyes, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You knew you were the one who was stopping yourself from giving in, too afraid to face the thought of someone, especially a person so pure and good like Steve, seeing past your powers, seeing the real you, and still not choosing you. Over the last two years, you opened yourself up to Steve, letting him see both the good and bad within you as you were in hiding, yet you couldn't bear the thought of him rejecting you. 

The heat of Steve’s hand against your cheek made you look back up, and it’s like he’s studying you, as if he’s staring right into your soul. His hand slid into your hair, his fingers placed on the nape of your neck. Your mouth fell open slightly and you close your eyes when Steve inches closer, his lips brushing against yours.

The kiss was slow and uncertain, yet gentle and comforting. He pulled away, allowing you to come up for breath, your foreheads resting against each other’s. You opened your eyes, searching for any hint of regret, any hint that he didn’t mean for this to happen. All you see is wonder, the ocean blue of his eyes now a rim edged on his enlarged pupils.

Giving in, you pulled him to you, meeting each other in the middle as he kissed you deeper than before, driven by the fiery passion he felt for you. He wasn’t very good with words; sometimes it took him effort to explain what he was feeling. He’d rather show it to you, finding it easy to do so considering you were an Empath. He needed to show you how much you affected him, how you encompassed him in safety when he was around you.

You could feel the stretch in your neck from leaning across the console, but the ache was ignored when Steve deftly slipped his tongue inside your mouth, your lips brushing together in all-consuming, open-mouthed kisses. With his arms wrapped around your waist, Steve lifted you with ease, across the console to situate you on his lap, your knees framing his thick thighs.

He eased his head back, pausing to look at you. The steering wheel dug into your back, but you could care less with the way he was looking at you. 

“Is this ok?” he asked you, his voice no more than a whisper, yet you could hear him just fine.

You nodded eagerly, unable to formulate words, still breathless.

“More?”

“Yes,” you whispered, finding your voice.

He framed your face with his hands, kissing you sweetly. You took your time to map each other out, search what made you shudder, where to nip with the teeth. You grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket, tugging it off his body and threw it on the backseat, the resounding thud bringing you back to earth.

As if he read your mind, Steve’s hands travelled to your back, caressing your spine up and down in comfort, easing your nerves. He slid the seat back, giving you more room to get comfortable, all while he kissed you with an ardent fervour. He no longer wanted to wait. Neither did you.

You gasped when Steve ripped open your cardigan in one swoop, chucking it blindly behind him as his lips pressed against your neck, travelling across your throat. His hands gripped the bottom of your dress, inching it upwards until it pooled at your waist. Your arms tightened around him as one hand reached inside your panties, swiftly entering your folds, the other hand soothingly rubbing up and down your thigh. Your gasps soon turned into whimpers and moans, gripping Steve’s shoulders like a lifeline when he added another, stroking your walls.

You let out an obscene moan when he curled his fingers to reach that coveted spot inside you, leaning your head back to see him. As much as you wanted to close your eyes and lose yourself in the sensation, you just couldn’t. Steve’s lustful stare combined with the hot trail of his fingers against the back of your thigh overwhelmed you, the raw emotion you could feel in him clouding your head, rising until the cord in your abdomen unravelled. With a cry, you let go, sinking into Steve’s chest as he brought you to the edge.

Steve ran a hand over your hair to calm you down, taking off your damp panties and throwing it in the back with your jackets, easing you up slightly so he could pull down his jeans and boxers. Immediately after, you lifted your head to kiss him languidly, wrapping your hand around his hard cock, stroking him with feather-light touches, leaving him groaning against your lips. 

When you swiped your thumb over the tip, Steve sucked in a breath, halting your movements with a gentle grip on your wrist. He replaced your hand with his own, guiding his shaft to your folds, the both of you gasping when he slid into you, burying himself to the hilt. Placing his hands on your hips, he guided you as you moved up and down, thrusting into you with unhurried but deep strokes, his lips scorching a path across your neck. 

With every stroke, you could feel yourself falling into an overload of emotions again, but this time it was different. It was the feeling of comfort that grounded you, the safety you felt whilst wrapped in Steve's arms, the raw vulnerability of opening yourself to him setting your heart alight, sending you home, to him. He was home. What you didn't know was that Steve felt exactly the same, giving his all to her.

Steve dipped his hand into your folds again, stroking his thumb against your throbbing clit. You whimpered, your back arching as you writhed above him, his cock chasing the spot inside you he reached with his fingers. 

"Steve," you whined. 

"I know, darling. I know." he growled out, pulling you impossibly closer, intent on pleasing you. 

Your muscles tightened around him, the pressure in your abdomen slowly building again, your skin hot and feverish, your hips steadily moving with Steve's as he filled you again and again. You couldn't hold it in any longer. With a choked gasp of his name, you hit your climax, letting the powerful sensation wash all over you. Steve's jaw clenched, fucking up into you with rapid thrusts, releasing inside you soon after, panting in your hair. 

Your harsh breathing filled the car, the windows steamy after your tryst, Steve hugging you to him, a hand placed on the back of your head to calm you. With every rise and fall of Steve's chest, your mind cleared, the barrier crumbling down as you let your power rise. And with a snap of your fingers, you could finally recallwhat the familiar feeling within Steve was. 

Love. 

All he felt for you was love. 

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to iZombie (2015-2019) for the dialogue at the beginning


End file.
